


The Private Eye

by Persiflage



Series: Bondkink Fics [73]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Noir, Anal Sex, Breast Fucking, Cock Rings, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Hand Jobs, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Panty Removal Recommended..., Private Investigators, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 03:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond AU in which James Bond is a Private Eye, and Olivia Mansfield (M) is his client.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Private Eye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts), [Wolfsbride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/gifts).



> This story was prompted by a photo of Judi Dench in a fedora. My friend Wolfsbride observed that someone should write a story in which Bond's a PI and M's his client, and my friend Tay encouraged her to write it. Wolfsbride wrote the first two paragraphs of this story (which I subsequently edited slightly) but as she is in the middle of another fic, she kindly agreed that my muse could run away with the idea!

I knew the dame was trouble as soon as she walked through my door. She was a bitty little thing, but what there was of her was mostly leg. She had a sleek cap of hair and a mouth that was made for sinning.

I almost asked her to leave, just to see if the back was as good as the front, but I didn't. No point scaring off the customers. Money was tight and my bills were big enough to be Williams. I needed all the moolah I could put my hands on. I tried not to think about what else I'd like to put my hands on while I waited for her to speak.

"Mr Bond – " she began, and I had to fight the urge to tell her to call me James. "I need your help."

"Have a seat, Miss – ?"

"Mansfield. Mrs Olivia Mansfield." She slinked across the room as she spoke and I was glad I was behind my desk or she'd have seen my less-than-professional reaction to her moves, a reaction that only got worse when she sat down, then crossed her legs, flashing me a good few inches of thigh. She saw me staring and smirked in a knowing fashion, before tugging the hem of her skirt down to her knees.

"How can I help you, Mrs Mansfield?" I asked, willing myself not to leap across the desk, grab her and push her down on said desk so I could have my wicked way with her. She looked like she'd enjoy it, but I did need the money if she had a case for me. _Maybe afterwards,_ I thought hopefully, and willed my rampant cock to settle down again.

"It's my husband, Mr Bond. I already know he's having an affair with his secretary – "

"More fool him," I said immediately, before I could even stop to think about what I was saying.

She flashed me a smile that was dazzling and drove me so crazy that I had no idea how I didn't just come in my pants. 

"As I said, I know he's having an affair with his secretary, but I also believe he's embezzling the bank's funds – largely, I suspect, to keep his mistress in the style to which she wants to become accustomed. I have no desire to get caught up in the aftermath when he gets caught, so I want you to find me proof of my suspicions so that I can take it to the cops. That way I'll be able to avoid the cops thinking I was involved in any way." 

A bank fraud? Well that was more interesting than him having an affair, even if he was having an affair. And why the hell was he having an affair when he had such a tasty dame all to himself. If Olivia Mansfield had been my wife, I wouldn't have dreamt of fucking another woman as long as I lived. Her legs and mouth, not to mention the knowing smiles, convinced me she'd be a little wildcat in bed – and I had no doubt I could live with that, so why couldn't her husband. The man obviously wasn't right in the head. I shifted awkwardly in my chair, aware that my erection wasn't lessening, and focused my attention back on the beautiful dame sitting across from me. She was watching me intently, and I wondered if I was imagining the speculative look in those blue eyes.

I gave her a brisk nod, and began discussing the finer details with her, then set out my payment terms. She didn't turn a hair at the fee I mentioned, and part of me wished, basely, that I'd upped it some more since she could obviously afford it if the quality of her clothing, especially the fur stole she wore draped over her shoulders, was anything to go by. Still, if I did a good job, and did it promptly, maybe I'd earn myself a bonus.

She opened her purse, a massive thing made of real crocodile skin, unless I missed my guess, and took out a money purse from which she extracted a roll of notes. I watched, trying not to gape, as she peeled off half a dozen fifties and passed them across to me. Her nails were blood red, just like her lipstick, and she deliberately, I'm sure, grazed them across my palm as she withdrew her hand after placing the banknotes in my hand. I felt my cock stirring again, and knew that once she was out of the door, I'd have to take myself in hand or I wouldn't be able to concentrate for the rest of the day. 

She got to her feet, and I stood up automatically, 'cos I'm always polite with dames, and then she dropped her gaze to my crotch and I remembered that standing up meant I was giving her a close up of my erection. She lifted her eyes and her heated gaze seemed to scorch me, and I wondered again why I hadn't come in my pants.

"Thank you, Mr Bond. I look forward to your report in two days time. I shall expect you after nine o'clock."

"I'll be there, ma'am," I assured her, _try and stop me!_ I added in the privacy of my head. I held out my hand and she shook it firmly, and I bit back a whimper at the sensation of her smooth skin on mine. Impulsively, I turned her wrist gently and lifted the back of her hand to my lips, and kissed it. When I released her hand and glanced up the look she was giving me was searing, and I was hugely relieved that she went out before I could embarrass myself any further.

The moment she shut the door behind her, I collapsed into my chair with a deep moan, then swiftly unfastened my pants and palmed my swollen cock. Closing my eyes, I began to stroke my prick, picturing all the things I wanted to do to Olivia Mansfield, and all the things I wanted her to do to me.

007-007-007

As she stood outside the door to James Bond's office, Olivia Mansfield heard his moan, and she swivelled on the spot, then gently edged the door back open, and eased her head and shoulders inside carefully. As she'd suspected, he was rapidly working his hand up and down the hard cock that had tented out the front of his pants, and it was even more magnificent than she'd imagined when she'd caught sight of that swelling in his pants. He was certainly bigger than her husband, and at twenty years younger, he would doubtless have vastly more stamina than Reginald. She felt her own sex growing wetter as she watched the young man fisting his cock, and she bit back a moan of desire. Part of her was tempted to march back into the office and throw herself on him, or onto his cock, at any rate, but she wasn't sure quite how he'd react when he realised she'd watched him wanking, so she waited until she saw the first spurts of thick cream, then eased the door closed again and hurried away. Time she went home and took some pleasure of her own, she decided.

007-007-007

I got a buddy of mine, one Felix Leiter, who was a financial whiz-kid, to come over to give me the gen on how Reginald Mansfield might be fleecing the bank's funds. We ate pizza and drank beer as I scribbled notes while he talked me through the details. He's a great guy, Felix, and we've been buddies a long time, so when he was done, I fetched us both another beer, then we sprawled in our armchairs, half listening to the game, as we chewed the fat. Felix'd found himself a real swell dame and they were planning on getting married in a few months, and he'd tapped me to be his best man. And because he and Eve were love-sick and happy, he kept twitting me on when I was gonna find a dame of my own and settle down, instead of continuing my habit of fucking any woman who'd let me have her.

"Well, I did pick up a tasty bird for a client today," I admitted.

"James!" Felix sounded less scandalised than resigned – he knows me too well, you see. "What's she like?"

"Five foot nothing with legs that go on forever," I told him, remembering her sweet-looking thigh and feeling my cock stir again. "A magnificent pair of tits that were begging to be handled properly. Short blonde hair in a neat cap. And a mouth made for kissing and sinning."

Felix shook his head at me. "How old is she?"

I gave a little shrug, then admitted, "Forty-two or forty-three, but looks younger. Got flawless skin."

"Married or single?"

He knows I don't mind if a woman's got a ring on her finger if she's looking for someone to play around with.

"Married, but her husband, the one who's probably cooking the books, is fucking his secretary. Man must be outta his mind, when he's got such a sexy little dame at home. I tell ya, Felix buddy, if she was warming my bed, I'd never fuck another dame again."

Felix's eyebrows rose and he directed a sceptical look at me, his dark eyes betraying how unconvinced he was.

"I'm serious!" I protested vehemently. "Reginald Mansfield must be crazy to even look at another woman with that tasty morsel to come home to. She's the sort to fuck you six ways to Sunday, then go all over again, even at her age."

"She really must be some dame," Felix observed, then smiled. "Will you make a move for her?"

"Too fucking right, buddy. But I'll wait until the case is closed."

He shook his head, then yawned and stretched. "I'd better head home," he said. "Give me a bell if you need any more gen for the case, and come and have dinner with me and Eve when the case is done."

"I'd like that," I said. I liked Eve a lot – and not least because she had once sucked me off while I was on a really boring stake-out – but that was before I introduced her to Felix and he poached her from me. I felt my cock stir again at the memory, and the image of Olivia on her knees, sucking on my cock as her bare breasts pressed against my legs, popped into my head.

"I'll see myself out," Felix said, and I wondered if he'd guessed the lascivious direction my thoughts had taken. Since he's known me for so long, he might well have done, but I didn't mind.

"Goodnight Felix, and thanks."

He nodded from the doorway, then let himself out, and I waited until I heard the noise of the elevator taking him downstairs before I pulled my cock out again. I found myself hoping I could resolve Olivia's case for her quickly because the possibility of fucking her was becoming something of an obsession now.

007-007-007

When James Bond arrived at her home on Wednesday evening, Olivia Mansfield was more than ready for him. She'd had a long, luxurious bath earlier in the evening, but only after she'd spent a good half an hour pleasuring herself, and she had dressed very carefully: a short red dress that barely covered her arse, some barely-there silk knickers (also red), and the sheerest silk stockings money could buy. She hadn't bothered with a bra, and the low-cut front of her dress showed off her cleavage to advantage. She also wore red high-heeled shoes that added an extra couple of inches to her diminutive stature. She expected to have James Bond gagging for her the moment he set eyes on her, and she fully intended to take advantage of the fact that he'd so obviously fancied her the moment he'd seen her on Monday. She had decided not to let him fuck her, not yet, but that didn't preclude them having some fun together.

She could feel the silk of her knickers pressing damply against her sex and she shifted position in her chair, her thighs rubbing together, as she waited for James Bond.

The doorbell rang punctually at nine o'clock, and she made her way, hips swaying, to the front door, aware that she was the very picture of a desirable woman.

"Good eve – " His greeting choked to a stop as he took in the sight of her once the door had opened fully, and she hid a smirk as his eyes practically popped out of his head, and his cock almost popped out of his pants.

"Good evening, Mr Bond. Do come in."

"Good evening Mrs Mansfield." He got the full greeting out this time, although his voice sounded rather strangled, she noticed.

"Let me take your hat and coat," she said, and he obediently slipped off his trenchcoat and fedora. She put the coat on a hook on the coat rack in the hallway, then stretched up to add the hat, knowing that he would seeing even more of her thighs as a result of that stretch, and possibly just a hint of the curve of her arse; she heard him gulp behind her and she didn't bother to hide her smirk this time.

"Come through, Mr Bond." She set off along the hallway, knowing his eyes would be glued to her arse and legs as she sashayed ahead of him.

"Take a seat, please," she said, gesturing at the couch and the armchair grouped around the fireplace. "Drink?"

"Uh – " She glanced over her shoulder at him as he settled onto the end of the couch, his arousal obvious. 

"Go on," she urged, "be a devil."

He shot her a smouldering look, then nodded choppily. "Bourbon, ice, no slice," he said, and she gave him a dazzling smile as she fixed his drink. 

Carrying it across to him, she returned to fix her own, preferring a gin and vermouth for herself, then she sat at the other end of the not very long couch, and crossed her legs before giving him an expectant look.

He was gaping at her, and he didn't seem to be aware that his cock was tenting the front of his pants in the most noticeable manner. They were definitely going to have some fun tonight.

He took a deep gulp of his drink, then coughed slightly, before beginning his report. As she listened Olivia reached out and picked up a silver-chased ebony cigarette holder, into which she fitted a cigarette; she watched James through half-lidded eyes as she lit a match, then the cigarette and sucked expertly on the cigarette holder to draw the nicotine into her lungs. He seemed unconscious of the fact that his right hand was cupping his cock through his pants, and as she sucked a final time, then blew out a long plume of smoke, he whimpered quietly.

"Perhaps you'd better take care of that," she suggested, nodding at his crotch. "Then you'll be better able to concentrate on making your report."

He flushed a deep red, delighting Olivia: she loved it when she made men blush. "I – Uh – " he stuttered, jerking his hand away.

"Go on, James," she urged. She was eager to see that monster cock again, but up close, and she loved to see a man getting himself off because of her.

He shook his head, then fumbled his pants open and eased his swollen prick free. Olivia licked her lips, aware of a surge of moisture between her thighs as her arousal grew. She was tempted to hitch up her dress and drag off her knickers before sinking down onto that glorious prick, but resisted the temptation – with difficulty.

She kicked off her shoes, then shifted position on the couch so that she sat with one leg dangling over the edge of the couch, and her other leg tucked underneath her – which just coincidentally gave him a good view of her silk-covered pussy. She heard him groan and knew he'd spotted the damp patch on the crotch of those barely-there knickers, and she licked her lips, then gestured at him with her cigarette holder. "I'm waiting James," she reminded him, and he groaned again, then began to fist his cock.

007-007-007

What I'm doing's horribly unprofessional, of course, but I just couldn't help myself – Olivia was perfect wank material, and she was dressed to impress the viewer with how utterly fuckable she was – and while I'm no longer a teenager, I'm still a red-blooded male, and I wanted to drag her along the seat of the couch by her ankles and then fuck her until she was screaming my name. I couldn't do that, but I was going to wank, because if I didn't, I'd just cream my pants, and that'd be even more distracting than having her watch me getting myself off. 

I pictured that sinful mouth wrapped around my cock, sucking it down her throat as she sucked me off, and my fist moved faster on my prick. Then I imagined ripping off those scanty red silk knickers and plunging my cock into her slick heat. I wanted to pull open her dress and get my hands and mouth on those voluptuous tits; I could see that her nipples were hard beneath the silk, and I pictured my lips wrapping around one of them, biting and sucking until she came. The image was too much, and I grunted loudly as my cock began to spurt over my hand.

"Here." A hand nudged at my arm and I opened my eyes to see Olivia leaning forward, giving me a proper eyeful of those fabulous tits as she handed me a napkin to clean up with.

"Thanks." I muttered, embarrassed, now that I'd just wanked myself off in front of my client. 

"Thank you, James," she said, her husky voice warm and sexy. "That was quite a show." I felt myself blushing again in response to her obvious approval. "Now it's my turn."

I gaped at her, unclear as to what exactly she meant. 

"You've satisfied yourself, for now," she told me. "Now I want you to satisfy me." She slid off the couch and beckoned at me imperiously. I let go of my flaccid cock and stepped into her personal space. "I want you to take my knickers off, and get me off."

"Oh fuck!" I groaned.

"No, not yet," she said. "Close the case to my satisfaction, however, and I'll let you fuck me as a bonus."

 _Christ!_ I thought, _this will probably the fastest I've ever closed a case in my brief career._

I knelt at her feet and pulled those red silk knickers down, inhaling the rich, ripe scent of her arousal, and felt my cock begin to stir again. However, I forced myself to concentrate on the task she'd given me, and I spread her legs open wider, then leaned in and drew my tongue up the length of her sex, moaning softly as I got my first taste of her. She tasted like sin and pleasure, and I pushed my tongue deeper, feeling her fingers clutch at my head with a smile of satisfaction. I loved it when a woman was responsive to me, and I especially loved to go down on a woman. I was fifteen, the first time I had sex, and the woman who introduced me to its myriad pleasures taught me exactly how to give the maximum amount of pleasure to a woman before I ever got my cock inside her. Those lessons had stood me in good stead over the last seven years, and I'd never yet had a woman complain about my ability to pleasure her.

"Oh yes, James, yes. Good boy." Olivia pressed her hand against the back of my head and I pulled the lips of her sex further apart so I could push my tongue deeper inside her lush pussy. I switched my tongue for my fingers and used my mouth on her clit instead as I began to fingerfuck her, and she cried out as I drove her over the edge. I lapped up every drop of her juices as she came, her pussy muscles tightening around my fingers, and I felt a strong urge to stand up, lift her up, and then plunge my cock into her still trembling cunt. 

"Oh you're good," she told me, her husky voice trembling in the wake of her orgasm. "Whoever taught you knew what she was doing." Getting to my feet, I couldn't help smirking at that, and she swatted my thigh, then lightly squeezed the base of my cock. "Put that away, James, or I may just forget myself."

"I wouldn't mind," I told her boldly, meeting her blue eyes with a lustful look.

"No, I daresay you wouldn't," she said, chuckling. "Nevertheless, be a good boy and put your cock away again, then give me your report."

"Yes ma'am." I tugged at an imaginary forelock, eliciting a peel of laughter that made me almost lose my self-control, then I tucked my rampant erection back inside my pants. When I sat down, I had to sit with my legs spread while I waited for my cock to subside, but by the time I'd finished my report, it was quiescent again.

007-007-007

Two nights later, I quietly let myself into the bank and made my way to Reginald Mansfield's office. It was one o'clock in the morning, and this particular bit of the town was quiet, although I was sure it'd be the usual noise and hustle down by the docks, and in the district where the nightclubs and bars were – Friday nights were always rowdy there. I closed the door of Mansfield's office behind me before I flicked on the torch I carried to check that the layout was exactly as Olivia had told me. It was, and the blinds were securely closed, so I made my way by torchlight over to the desk that dominated the plush office, and carefully picked the lock of the deep file drawer to the right of the knee hole. Thankfully there were fewer files in the drawer than I'd feared, and I hoped that it wouldn't take all five hours that I had to photograph them. I set the torch down at an angle, then pulled out a miniature camera and began the task of recording all the details within each file. Felix had agreed to go through the material once I had it, and I hoped it would prove useful. 

As I worked, I did my best not to think about Olivia; after I'd left her house on Wednesday night, I'd still been horny and desperate for a good fuck, so I'd headed to the Pussycat Club where I knew Vesper, one of the cigarette girls and hostesses. She was one of my regular fucks, and we'd taken advantage of her half hour break at midnight to lock ourselves into one of the private rooms where I'd fucked her until I was empty and limp. She'd swiftly cleaned herself up with the speed of long practise, while I watched her, my dick too spent to even twitch in response to the sight of her nubile body. After that I'd taken a cab home and slept like a baby until morning, but the thought of fucking Olivia like I'd fucked Vesper had continued to tease my imagination – I couldn't remember the last time I'd had to wait so long to actually get my cock inside a woman, and it was torture, although I suspected she'd make it worth the wait once I did fuck her.

We'd arranged that I would go and see her on Sunday afternoon – Reginald was going to be away for the weekend; Olivia suspected he'd taken his mistress somewhere expensive, but it meant that if I had the information she wanted for her by then, I would be enjoying her lush body as my bonus before Sunday was out.

By the time I finished the photographs it was five thirty and I was struggling to stay awake. I slipped the last file back into the desk drawer, locked it, pocketed my camera, then switched off my torch and let myself out of the office. I slipped out of the bank, then walked a couple of blocks before I picked up a cab to take me home, where I shed my coat, hat, and shoes, then fell onto the bed and into a deep sleep.

I woke at noon with a raging hard-on, and the awareness that someone was in the room with me. I carefully slid my hand under my pillow for my Colt, but a familiar voice spoke before I could grab the gun. 

"No need for that, James. I won't hurt you. Well, not unless you want me to."

I rolled onto my back, and pushed myself up on one elbow to stare across the room at my client. "How did you get in here?" I demanded.

"Darling boy, it's quite easy, if you know how," she drawled, then sucked on her cigarette, and I felt a surge in my pants.

She was sitting in the armchair across from my bed, her legs crossed, and a good deal of flesh on display. She wore a red mini-skirt, which I was sure wouldn't even have covered her arse or her sex when she stood up, and a black semi-transparent blouse that made it quite plain she wasn't wearing a bra again.

My cock was straining against my pants, so I rolled off the bed, then stripped, keeping my eyes on her face the whole time. She licked her lips and my cock twitched, then she smirked before asking, "Did you get the photos?"

"I did, but I haven't had time to develop them yet."

She nodded. "How long will it take?" She was staring at my cock still.

"At least a couple of hours," I told her.

"Well, before you do that, how about a little fun?" She set aside her cigarette, then stepped out of her high heels before crossing to stand beside me by the bed. She gave me a shove and I sat down abruptly, wondering if I was going to get my bonus now. "Lie down, James."

I obeyed, completely mesmerised by this point, and she hitched up her skirt, then removed the scrap of lace that had barely covered her pussy, before she climbed up onto the bed. She positioned herself so that her cunt was above my face, then lowered herself down slowly. I moaned, then clasped her thighs and began to lick and suck as she rode my face. She didn't ignore my swollen cock, however, but began to stroke it while I ate her out.

"I'm gonna come quickly," I warned her in a muffled voice, and she immediately squeezed the base of my cock. 

"Not before I do," she said firmly, and I groaned, then resumed my ministrations with even greater fervour. 

Ten minutes later as she came to a shuddering climax, her hand released its tight grip on my cock, and a few strokes later, I was spilling my seed all over her hand and my thighs.

"Good boy, James," she said, sounding sleepy. She lifted herself off me, then divested herself of her blouse and skirt, before stretching out on the bed beside me. "You're a very good boy," she told me, and leaned in to kiss me. I responded eagerly, my tongue slipping easily into her mouth, and exploring with zeal.

I combined the kissing with some fondling, allowing my hands to roam all over her body, but especially playing with her tits, pinching and twisting her stiff nipples until she shifted to press her sex against my left thigh and began to rub herself against me.

My cock, which was already half hard, quickly stiffened until it was standing proud of my body, as she moaned and writhed against my thigh, her pussy leaving sticky wet trails on my skin.

"Oh god, Olivia! Please, let me fuck you," I begged.

"Tomorrow," she panted. "I promise you can fuck me senseless tomorrow." She came with a sharp cry, then flopped over onto her back, gasping for breath.

I watched her heaving tits and suddenly felt inspired. I reached over and yanked open the bottom drawer of the chest of drawers beside my bed, and delving within, pulled out a tube of lubricant. "At least let me fuck your tits, then," I asked, waggling the lube at her.

She gave me a huge grin. "I thought you'd never ask."

I leaned in close and kissed her savagely. "Witch!" I breathed, then pulled back and began lubing up my cock, and the valley between those voluptuous breasts; she lay watching me, a gleam of anticipation in her blue eyes.

Finally I tossed the lube aside, then I straddled her body and leaned forward to place my cock between her two mounds of flesh. She smirked at me, then squeezed them together, trapping my cock.

"Go on, then, James. Give it everything you've got."

I groaned, then withdrew my cock, before thrusting it forwards again. Olivia swirled her tongue around the head, and I groaned again, then I began to thrust rhythmically. It had been some time since I'd fucked a woman's tits, and I'd forgotten what a heady rush it always was. Olivia seemed to be enjoying it as well, to judge from her moans and the way she was sucking on the head of my cock as it came within reach. I felt my balls tightening and shrinking back in towards my body, and I managed to warn her that I was close to coming.

"Come on my tits, James," she said immediately, and I shuffled backwards on my knees enough to take aim, and moments later, I was pumping spunk across her soft flesh.

As soon as I was spent, she begged me to get her off with my mouth or fingers, and I quickly moved down the bed to lie between her legs and lowered my mouth to her hot, wet cunt.

007-007-007

I left Olivia to take a bath while I went into my dark room to develop my film from the night before. I had taken an advanced photography course when I was seventeen, and once I decided to become a PI, I also made the decision to handle my own development because some of the photos I took during the course of my work were sensitive – particularly the ones of errant husbands fucking women who weren't their wives. I'd set up my own dark room with the best equipment I could afford, which actually wasn't too far off being top-of-the-range stuff as I'd come into my inheritance at eighteen: I'd been orphaned at the age of eleven when my parents had died in a skiing accident, and my father, who'd been an engineer, had managed his savings and investments well before his death, and they'd been even better managed by his solicitor following his death.

Unfortunately, the cost of my photographic equipment, and a reasonably reliable car, had taken a large chunk out of that inheritance, and then putting down deposits on both my office and my apartment, plus the mortgage repayments for them both, had eaten an even greater chunk of what was left. The rest my father's solicitor had insisted on converting into a pension fund for me, which meant I only had what I earned to live on, and some months were rather lean. It wasn't unheard of for a client to refuse to pay my final bill if they didn't like the outcome of the case – I'd had a couple of disgruntled wives who'd been so outraged when I had confirmed their suspicions about their wandering husbands, that they'd refused to pay me, and I couldn't afford to take them to court for non-payment.

Sometimes I found myself wondering why I didn't get myself a nice, steady, regular job – as a clerk somewhere, perhaps – anything that would bring in a regular wage and allow me to eat properly. But I couldn't ever bring myself to do it – it would feel too much like walking into a trap, and besides, I enjoyed my job most of the time.

When I emerged from my dark room two hours later, Olivia was gone, but there was a note in the middle of my bed, which I noticed she'd remade with fresh linen while I'd been busy.

_I'll see you tomorrow afternoon at one o'clock, loverboy. Don't be late, and don't forget to get plenty of rest before you arrive, because you won't get any while you're with me._

I cursed softly at this message, feeling my cock respond energetically to the implications of her words. I really hoped she'd let me fuck her tomorrow – I was getting desperate to slide my thick prick into her slick heat. I wanted to pound her into the mattress until she begged for mercy, and then I'd fuck her all over again, if I had my way.

I shook my head, then set the file of photographs on the corner of the desk in my sitting room, before taking myself into the kitchen to see what I had in the fridge: I was ravenously hungry.

007-007-007

Olivia waited for her new lover, who was also her employee, with considerable anticipation: not only was she going to let him fuck her properly today, but she'd also get the material she needed against her husband, and the thought of getting him out of her life finally was something she relished.

She'd dressed with some care before James' arrival: the black, semi-transparent blouse she'd worn the other night had been paired with another mini-skirt, this one in black; she hadn't bothered with knickers or a bra, but she was wearing sheer black silk stockings, and three-inch heels. She was already wet with anticipation, and her pussy throbbed with need as she pictured James finally sliding his thick prick into it. She wasn't quite sure just why she had made him wait so long – yes, she was his client, and their sexual relationship was unprofessional, but it wasn't as if he had a supervisor to tell him off for what they'd been doing. And given the things she had done or let him do to her, such as fucking her tits, it didn't make sense not to have let him fuck her, especially yesterday – on the other hand, the slow build up to getting his cock in her cunt had been fun, and she sensed that on some level, he'd enjoyed the teasing.

She heard her doorbell ring on cue, and opened the door to find him dressed in tight jeans and a button-down white shirt, in addition to his usual trenchcoat and fedora. She took his hat and coat from him as before, and hung them on the hooks in the hallway, but before she could turn back to him, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled it tight against his own, and she felt the hard length of his cock against her arse.

"Shall I take you here, Olivia?" he asked, his voice low and breathy in her ear as he rubbed himself against her. "Shall I just yank down my jeans and impale you on my cock and fuck you until you scream as you come?" 

His right hand drifted down over her belly as he scraped his teeth against the side of her neck, and she moaned when he cupped her wet mound with his large hand, his middle finger pressing against the lips of her sex. "You're already wet for me, and hot for me, and ready for me to fuck you senseless," he added, then pushed his finger inside her. "You want me, just as much as I want you."

"Yes," she gasped, although the word was less in answer to his questions than in response to the spike of pleasure that had jolted through her when his finger penetrated her pussy. He began to frig her, and all the while her bare arse was pressed against the hard mound of his jeans-clad cock, and she wondered if he'd fuck her arse as well. She turned her head and found his mouth with hers, kissing him hungrily as she ground her arse back against his cock, and his fingers sawed in and out of her throbbing pussy, until she came with a hoarse cry, and a small gush of juices that coated his fingers.

"What a slut you are, Olivia," he said conversationally, and eased his fingers free. He lifted his hand and she eagerly sucked his fingers clean of her come.

"Come to bed," she said once he'd pulled his fingers out of her mouth.

He shook his head. "Not until I've made my report," he told her, and moved her body away from his. 

She bit back a whimper, even as she felt impressed by the way he was treating her – she'd expected to have things her own way today, but she wasn't displeased that he'd taken charge. Given their age difference she hadn't been sure he'd have the confidence to take control, but it turned her on immensely that he had.

"Well, aren't you Mr Bossy Pants, today?" she teased as she turned to face him, aware of the stickiness of her thighs, and how much she wanted him to impale her on his cock.

He smirked at her, then gestured towards the sitting room, and she blew him a kiss, then span around and sashayed ahead of him down the hall, knowing he'd be watching her arse and hips, and knowing, too, that he'd be aching to fuck her.

Once in the sitting room, she poured them both a drink, then sat at the opposite end of the couch, where they'd sat on Wednesday night. Her pussy was still throbbing, and her nipples were tight beneath her blouse as she watched him swallowing his first mouthful of bourbon. She wanted to climb into his lap, straddle him, and then ride his cock until he emptied himself inside her, and she hoped she'd get the chance to do that before too much longer. 

He put his glass down on the end table beside the arm of the couch, then pulled out a sheaf of folded papers.

"I wonder, when were you going to tell me that Reginald Mansfield is your ex-husband?" he asked.

That stopped her dead in her tracks and she stared at him, too astonished for words for a few moments. "How did you find that out?" she demanded.

He snorted. "Please. I'm a private eye – it's my job to find things out." He stared at her, and she sighed, then leaned back and took a slug of her gin and vermouth. 

"I wasn't going to tell you," she admitted. "I didn't think it was relevant."

He shook his head. "No, it's not relevant that Reginald Mansfield's your ex-husband, or that he's married to your biggest rival." He raised an enquiring eyebrow. "You and the current Mrs Mansfield run rival crime gangs, I understand."

She nodded. It was interesting, she thought, that he seemed more annoyed with her because she'd kept information from him, than he was about the fact that she was a crime boss. His lack of moral outrage made her wonder if the idea turned him on – did he get a kick out of the thought of her ordering hits on her rivals, or the thought that she was deadly with a weapon, probably more deadly than he was, given that she had two decades experience on him. Was that why he'd been so masterful when he'd arrived? Suddenly she wanted him even more badly than before.

"I wondered, you see, how you'd found out where I lived, when you came to see me yesterday. Because I hadn't given you my home address, and my telephone number at home's unlisted, so after you left yesterday afternoon, I started digging."

She smirked at him. "Quite the little terrier, aren't you, James? Definitely a proper private eye."

He shook his head slightly. "I ought to report you," he said. "I know very well that the head of the notorious Mansers is wanted by the cops to answer to a number of charges, some of them very serious. But I suspect that no one would take me seriously if I pointed them at you – you've covered your tracks very well."

"But no so well that you didn't work it out," Olivia observed.

"Yes, but that's your fault. I'd never have gone looking, or dug as deeply as I did, if you'd stayed away from me yesterday."

"So what happens now?" she asked.

He tossed the sheaf of papers onto the end table beside his drink. "Now, Olivia? What happens now is that I claim my promised bonus. I'm going to take you to bed and fuck you until neither one of us can move."

"Goodness!"

He got to his feet and held out his hand, and she rose and took his hand, then shrieked as he swooped down and lifted her into his arms, then turned and carried her to the bedroom. He tossed her onto the bed, then dragged off his shoes and his jeans, revealing his swollen cock, which was fitted with a cock ring.

"Oh you bad boy," she breathed. 

He shed his shirt as well, then tugged off her shoes, before stripping off her blouse and mini-skirt.

"Stockings," she murmured, her gaze fixed firmly on his prick.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm going to fuck you in them."

"Oh god!" 

He climbed up onto the bed, then positioned his body over hers, and a moment later she sighed with immense pleasure as he sank his cock into her hot, wet pussy. He filled her up exactly as she'd imagined he would, and she felt her inner muscles ripple along the length of his prick as she waited for him to begin to thrust.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth and she felt her whole body tightening in anticipation of an orgasm, despite the fact he hadn't even started to fuck her yet. She wrapped her legs around his, hoping that he'd move soon, but he just continued to fuck her mouth with his tongue, and she clutched at his shoulders as her climax hit her.

007-007-007

I'd been pretty riled when I found out that Olivia Mansfield was already divorced from Reginald Mansfield: I hated it when clients lied to me, and the fact that she was a hot dame was no reason not to let her know how mad she'd made me, but the moment I'd seen her in her hallway, I realised that I couldn't stay mad for too long, and especially not when she flashed her arse at me when she put my hat on the coat hook. I really had wanted to fuck her right there and then, and I still wasn't sure how I'd restrained myself.

But now that I had her on the bed beneath me, I wasn't in so much of a rush, not with my cock buried deep in her tight wet sex. She felt glorious, so I contented myself with kissing her, enjoying the sensation of having my prick sheathed in her pussy, and her hard nipples pressing into my chest.

Once I'd made her come, though, I decided I was quite ready to fuck, and I lifted my head, staring down into her blue eyes that nearly matched my own in colour, then I shifted my hips, withdrawing my cock, before thrusting forwards again. She moaned loudly in my ear, then bit the lobe.

"More," she demanded, and I obliged, because I was more than ready to fuck her, and I'd waited long enough to get my cock into her.

She writhed and gasped and moaned beneath me as I thrust, withdrew, and thrust again, gradually increasing my pace as I felt my orgasm building. Of course, I was still wearing the cock ring, so I wouldn't be able to come until I took it off, but that didn't stop my balls from contracting and drawing up into my body. Then as I thrust again, Olivia cried out and I felt her pussy walls tightening along the length of my prick, and I grunted, then took my weight off my right forearm to unclip the cock ring – I'd wanted to prolong my erection further, but now I couldn't bear not to come. I dropped the ring onto the bed, then thrust once, twice more, and then I was pumping her pussy full of my spunk.

"Christ!" Olivia gasped, and I mumbled an agreement, then slid my arms under her body and rolled us over so that she lay atop me; my cock was still buried inside her, and I had no intention of withdrawing it just yet.

"That was delicious," she told me, and leaned down to kiss me, wriggling against me as she did so.

"It was worth the wait," I agreed.

"Are you still mad at me?" she asked.

"A little," I admitted. "I hope you find the photographs useful."

"I'll look at them later," she promised. "First, though… " She left the sentence hanging as she lifted herself off me, then positioned herself beside my body and lowered her mouth to my cock. 

I groaned as she drew her tongue the length of my cock, which was still half-hard from our fuck. She swirled her tongue around the head, teasing the hole in the tip, then dragged her teeth carefully back down my shaft before licking my balls.

"Oh fuck, woman!" My cock was swelling again already, and I couldn't help clasping the back of her neck as she began to bob up and down. 

She slid my cock out with a pop, then kissed the head, before looking up at me. "Fuck my mouth," she said, and I groaned, then nodded as she lowered her head to take my prick into her mouth again. 

I clasped the back of her neck more firmly, then lifted my hips, and thrust upwards, my cock sliding deeper into her throat. She hummed in satisfaction, and I groaned again, more loudly this time, then I began to thrust in earnest, my hips bucking upwards each time as she deep throated me. 

When I was close to coming she jerked her head back, then quickly straddled me, taking my cock into her pussy, and I found myself being ridden hard. It occurred to me that there was a lot to be said for sex with an older woman; most of the women I'd ever fucked had been more or less my own age, but Olivia was two decades older than me, and clearly knew what she wanted from a man, and wasn't afraid to take charge in order to get it.

She rode me to orgasm, then flopped down on top of me, her head tucked under my chin, and doubtless we'd have stayed there for a while, but I had to piss. She rolled off me, then directed me to the bathroom.

When I returned a few minutes later, I found myself stopping dead in the bedroom doorway at the sight that greeted me: she sat cross-legged on the bed, still wearing her stockings, but now also wearing my hat, and my shirt; she'd buttoned the middle few buttons, and I groaned at the sight of her breasts spilling out of the top. She'd also retrieved the photographs I'd brought with me, and was calmly reading the information from the files while smoking a post-coital cigarette.

"Damn it, woman," I said, my voice sounding more like a low growl than my usual tones.

She looked up at me, then smirked as she took in the sight of me staring at her: I was growing hard yet again.

"I do love a man with plenty of stamina," she said, and beckoned imperiously for me to join her on the bed.

"You're going to stretch my shirt," I told her, taking refuge in making complaints because I slightly resented how easily she'd got me aroused again.

"Take it off, then," she said calmly.

I reached out and fumbled the buttons open, then eased her out of it, then grabbed her ankles, one after the other, and spread her legs so that I could remove her stockings. She chuckled throatily, clearly amused by my behaviour.

"You can leave the hat on," I told her, then knelt on the bed and tugged on her legs so that she lay back against the pillows, before lowering my head to her pussy.

"Oh you darling boy," she moaned as I drove my tongue into her slick heat. 

I love eating out women – it's just as intimate, in some ways more so, than fucking her; it always disappoints me if I'm with a woman who doesn't like oral sex – I think it's missing out on half the fun. As I went down on Olivia, I couldn't help rubbing my cock against the linen, aware that I was growing harder with each passing minute. 

She came with a loud cry, and I kissed her inner thighs, then pushed myself up onto my knees; she smirked when she saw my stiff prick, then asked, "Want to take my arse?"

"Christ, yes!" I had been wanting to fuck her arse from the outset, but I wasn't sure if she was into that – some women aren't. 

While she positioned herself on her hands and knees, I scrambled off the bed, grabbed my jeans from the floor and pulled out the tube of lubricant. After a moment's thought, I also grabbed the cock ring and snapped it in place, then I knelt behind Olivia, and squirted some lube onto my fingers. Clasping her left hip, I eased a finger into her and began stroking her.

"Oh yes, James. Yes." Her voice sounded breathy with excitement, and I felt even more aroused when I realised how much she wanted this. 

I worked a second finger into her, and when I was satisfied she was relaxed enough, I guided my cock into her arse instead. She gasped as I began to push inside, but immediately ordered me not to stop – not that I wanted to stop, it felt too good.

Once my cock was buried all the way inside her, she reached for my right hand. "I want you to finger me while you fuck me," she said, and I moaned softly, then reached down and slid two fingers into her slick pussy.

"You're such a good boy, James," she told me, her ragged breathing exciting me. "Now fuck me."

Nothing loathe, I obeyed, thrusting and withdrawing my aching cock as I slid my fingers in and out of her pussy. If I hadn't been wearing the cock ring, I doubt I'd have lasted five minutes, as it was, I managed to last fifteen minutes, driving Olivia to two orgasms before I unclipped the cock ring and emptied my seed into her after a few more thrusts.

She slumped onto the bed in front of me, and I sat back on my heels, then lay on my back beside her.

"We should eat soon," she told me.

"Mmm," I agreed. I felt far too languid to move any time soon, in fact, I could feel sleep stealing over me, and I reached out to tug her closer to me, snugging my arm around her middle, and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. "In a bit," I told her, before sleep claimed me.

007-007-007

After an hour's sleep, and a bath, then a meal, I felt quite refreshed. Olivia had bathed while I was sleeping, and was now dressed in her black mini-skirt and a button-down shirt of her own; it was a pale blue, soft cotton one that wasn't as tight on her as mine had been, but was still snug across those voluptuous tits of hers, and I found myself desiring her all over again. It wasn't just her mouth that was made for sinning, I decided, recalling my first thoughts on my initial sight of her: her entire body was sexy: she had curves in all the right places, impossibly long legs (for someone of such diminutive stature), and a sort of ripe lushness and sensuality that made me want to worship her like she was the next incarnation of Aphrodite. She was, I decided, an eminently fuckable dame, and I had every intention of fucking her again before I left her apartment. 

After dinner, we settled in the sitting room for a bit while I talked Olivia through the contents of the photographs I'd brought with me; using Felix's lesson as a guide, I'd sorted out which were the relevant files that showed that Mansfield had been cooking the books, and I talked her through what Felix had told me. 

"That's sunk the bastard," she said, grinning with savage delight. She put the papers aside, then grabbed my shoulders and leaned in to kiss me hungrily, and I nearly came on the spot.

"You are a very clever boy, James Bond. You've more than earned your bonus – not just the fucking bonus, either, but a cash bonus too. I'll drop this paperwork off at the local cop shop in the morning, but for now, let's go back to bed."

I slipped my hand under her skirt and squeezed her thigh. "Or I could fuck you right here," I suggested, and pushed two fingers into her pussy.

"Let's do that."


End file.
